#though the other one will be much more... Explosive we'll say

[altruistic-meme]

i am putting Kunikida in Situations <3

[thesilmarillionblog]

A Sweet Distraction

Summary: When you're in a club, you have to make sure Soldier Boy stays out of trouble and doesn't draw attention of other people while Butcher and the boys look for Payback members. Whatever it takes, you have to keep him busy and distracted.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language, Soldier Boy being a dick, violence

Word Count: 1704

A/N: English is not my first language.

You put on modest makeup, adjusted your outfit, and gave Butcher a brief glance in the mirror as you prepared to go out with the most dangerous and unpredictable supe alive to keep him distracted. Although he was aware of your fear of Soldier Boy and your lack of desire to spend as little time as possible with him, Butcher believed that you were the only person fit for this dreadful task. You already felt bad about accepting Butcher's suggestion after learning about Soldier Boy's outburst and everything.

“Hey, I know you're new here, but while we're away, it might be best if a lady kept him in check. Don't misunderstand me, lovely.” Butcher remarked, placing his hand on your shoulder to encourage confidence in you. You sighed with acceptance at that. 

You reluctantly said, “Fine,” as if you had the option to say ‘no.’

“Oi, I'm not making any sort of suggestion, you know. I just ask that you keep your eyes on him.” 

“I know, I know,” you quickly answered as your cheeks started to blush. 

You were assigned your first job, but it seemed like your last mission because Butcher, who called you "his boys" only a week prior, forced you to join his team. Being aware of Solider Boy's reputation for uncontrollable explosions, you made every effort to stay away from him during your first week. There didn't seem to be any way to get in touch with him, though. Either Soldier Boy himself would be the cause of your death, or Butcher.

“Don't misjudge him; as long as he drinks and fucking sniffs his cocaine, he won't cause a scene. You'll be alright, I promise. He's not all that miserable.”

Even if you had doubts about Butcher's belief in his own remarks, you nonetheless nodded to him.

“Alright. Yes, indeed, I understand.” You muttered to Butcher. “I can handle this,” but in reality, you were talking to yourself.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed while clapping his hands. He was glad you avoided arguing with him. “My car is yours, and we'll get the van. Let's not keep Soldier Boy waiting around much longer.”

As you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, your heart raced, and you took a sip of whiskey from the closest table.

You entered Soldier Boy's room, where a massive amount of cocaine was on his table, and he was already getting high. You did your best to avoid staring at his massive, well-muscled chest while he was somewhat naked. You were afraid that weed use would increase his nervousness levels or something, or worse, cause him to become even more unstable. You were waiting quietly beside Butcher, wanting to say something about the current state of things, yet you uttered nothing. 

“Hey, are you prepared to enjoy yourself in the modern world?” Butcher inquired in a lighthearted manner.

You retreated a step as he approached you, asking, "With her?" with a grin on his face as he examined you from head to toe after standing up from his chair. 

“Buddy, don't be harsh on her; she's already scared of you.” Butcher spoke firmly, and he added, “Y/N will just be your company tonight while me and my boys look for your most devoted teammates. She is one of us.”

You turned your back as your cheeks became red while Soldier Boy raised his eyebrows and turned back to Butcher. He proceeded to smoke while pulling down his sweatpants suddenly and putting on a shirt over his bare chest. 

“I wouldn’t try,” Soldier Boy said as he changed his clothes. “She better take me to a good fucking place. I’m sick of staying in this fucking room.”

“That is not anything to worry about for you.” You all left the room as Butcher murmured.

You and Soldier Boy arrived at one of the most well-known and weird clubs, which was primarily packed with supes, after having nothing at all to talk about while driving. Soldier Boy's mouth curled into a satisfied smile as you became extremely nervous.

As soon as you two walked into the club, he said, “Not bad.”

If you were a supe, you would find it much easier to adjust to the environment and everything, but you weren't, and if you pissed someone off, they could kill you in a second. That's why you got a drink right away and followed Soldier Boy everywhere.

He removed the drug from one of his pockets and said, “I wonder if there is a fine chick to fuck,” before turning to face you. “All the sperm feels heavy in my balls though I jerked off at least five times, fuck.”

You said to yourself, "Oh, god," as he continued to spit filthy words.

He turned to face you, licked his lips, and gave you a smile that was so inviting that it stopped you in a moment.

He asked, “What happened now?” as if you were exaggerating. “I thought you all wanted to take away my attention.”

As you were going to say something unpleasant about his actions, you remembered what Butcher had said and changed your mind.

“It is not important.” You sipped your drink and kept an eye on the folks in the crowd who were getting wild, intoxicated, and dancing, and you added, “Everything's fine.”

Soldier Boy smirked as he saw your shy demeanor and chose to focus on you briefly before giving someone a hard and deep fuck. He may even attempt to get you to open you spread your legs for him so he can give you a satisfying fuck. Your bashful demeanor made him wonder if your pussy was as tight as he thought it was.

“You don’t need to be scared of me, you know,” Soldier Boy said and he gave you another inviting look.

You muttered, “How is that even possible? After all, you are a supe on cocaine with PTSD.”

Even though you felt bad right away for speaking out loud, he only laughed at your harsh remarks and replied, “Touche.”

You asked him with an uneasy smile, “Are you having fun?”

"Well, sweet thing, I'll start having fun as soon as my dick disappear into some really tight pussy.”

You muttered, “Okay, okay,” cutting him off from continuing. You took a deep breath, muttered, “You keep having fun, I will be around,” and hurriedly moved away from his side.

You just hoped that the night would end soon enough for you as you faded into the crowd. Should you get through this night without injury, you vowed to spit hate in Butcher's face. 

You chose to watch Soldier Boy from a distance, so you made some space between you and tried not to pay attention to the bizarre and frightening behaviors of the people around you. It appeared to be a massive freak show. You couldn't determine which club was worse, Herogasm or this one. 

As you locked eyes with Soldier Boy, you noticed that his lethal green eyes were already bound to you, as though you were some kind of prey to be pursued. He frowned as he moved to approach you through the chaotic crowd, and you gasped. Perhaps you were just making things up in your thoughts, and he was just staring at someone else. You tried pushing some people and finding a quieter place to avoid him.

But the person you might have shoved hard turned around and yelled, “Why the fuck are you pushing my fucking back?” to you. He became increasingly enraged after you muttered an apology, saying, “Why do they even let ordinary people get in here? You only bring difficulty upon yourselves, fuck.”

Once more, you pleaded, hoping to get out of there without stirring up any more tension. “I sincerely apologize.”

You moaned in agony as the supe's large hands gripped your arm tightly. It was not as if he would give up. You should never have accepted Butcher's suggestion in the first place.

But happily, Soldier Boy's stronger hands grabbed the strangers tightly, saving them from a terrifying situation in an instant and giving them a sense of happiness. If not, it appeared unlikely that you would survive to escape this strange club. As Soldier Boy turned to face the supe stranger and shot you a glare, you touched your arm with a painful moan.

“Is it that, you fuckface, your micropenis gets hard for the weak? You wanna play the big bad tough guy?” Soldier Boy asked angrily as his hands tightened a rough, quick grip around the other man's throat. He wasn't allowing the other supe to say anything. With feeble mutterings, he was urgently attempting to free himself from Soldier Boy's brutal hold.

“Please, don't cause any trouble,” you urged, touching Soldier Boy's big arm. Despite your attempts to calm him down, he continued to tighten his hold even after the supe kept apologizing. 

“No,” he angrily said. “I found a way to have fun. This fucking cocksucker is going to die.”

You tried to get him to move by saying, “Please, stop,” but it was obviously impossible. You panickedly muttered, “Oh, no,” as you noticed his chest suddenly glowing. 

He clinched his mouth, trying to control his chest and halt what was about to happen, but Soldier Boy threw him between the crowd and he growled, “Stay away.”

 You knew that you wouldn't make it to the exit between all the chaos and supes before Soldier Boy exploded, so you disregarded his warnings, softly cupped his neck, and placed your cold lips on his warm ones, hoping to surprise him with your unexpected move and calm him down a little.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated.

-`♡´-

[carionto]

C'mon, Really? Look, Just, Let Me Help You!

Humans: We need to have a talk about your secret war plans against us.

Aliens: W-what? No, that's not it, how-

H: Our intelligence operative are very good. Don't pretend these [throws folder on the table that scatters hundreds of pages of classified documents all over] aren't yours.

A: F-Fine! Yes! We made plans about how we should fight you if we ever got into a war. We admit it! What do you want?

H: Huh? No, what I'm trying to say is, why do your plans suck?

A: Err... what?

H: Yeah, compared to our plans and war games, you don't seem to utilize all the advantages you have against us. There's not as much coordination and specialization of forces as we expect in our simulations. What gives?

A: You've lost me.

H: Look, every civilization should run military simulations against EVERY existing party, not just the ones you're natural competitors, or ones you see as antagonistic. Hell, while we were "vanished" our military literally had nothing else to do and spent a solid 200 years making up every kind of scenario against every single potential power we might end up encountering once we "reappeared".

Honestly, there are so many things we are shocked about once we got our hands on your plans, I legitimately don't know where is the best place to begin.

Okay, for starters, why don't any of your plans include making use of our superior technology? It would work, we tested it as well. We built a scale model of one of your capital ships, plopped one of our fusion reactors in and BAM, shields and weapons instantly became on par with our Destroyers, and could even do some serious damage to our Dreadnoughts (for a few seconds before our counterattack vaporizes it, but that's besides the point), so we know your technology is fully capable of handling us.

A: For the millionth time, we are not using unstable power sources that could totally blow us up at any point!

H: It is safe! Those things only have a 0.002 percent chance to fail, and a one in six hundred thousand chance of THAT resulting in an explosion. We've only had twelve incidents the entire time we've been using them.

A: No.

H: Well you ain't winning a war against us with that attitude.

But anyway, one other thing your plans never do is blow up Earth and irradiate the shipyard orbits, what gives?

A: That's an abominable crime against, well, EVERYTHING!

H: Weak. But okay. One other thing though, and this one is just baffling, your deployments and gathering locations are always in the most obvious and convenient places. Those are, no joke, where we would place recon units and prepare ambushes the moment we even got a hint of a whiff of hostility from you. How come you never seem to account for us expecting you to do the obvious and pre-emptively counter that. And inversely, you never expect us to not be in the logical places where we should be.

A: I think my head is spinning from that. What?

H: Reverse psychology? Predictive behavior, or whatever it's called, not a psychologist. If you want to win against your enemy, you have to think like your enemy first.

You look dizzy. I know it's a lot to take in, but we'll guide you through this. Think of it as homework. After we have a more thorough meeting on this subject, we'll wait and let you figure things out back in your secret HQ's. But, if the plans we acquire later still won't account for the things we discussed, we'll be very disappointed.

[mumms-the-word]

Since you're the gale enthusiast does his orb in the ending where you let the crown be lost to the river/sea still light up when he and tav engage in sex? :3

Hello!! What a fun question!

Although I wouldn’t say I’m THE Gale enthusiast (because oh boy have you seen some of the amazing creatives on this site?? have you seen the headcanons and imagines and fics of people like @dekariosclan and @senualothbrok and @an-excellent-choice?? run don't walk over to their blogs haha) BUT...I do think a proportionally high amount about Gale’s condition and orb lol

and also I still have parts 2 and 3 of my long essay discussing the orb-as-disability/chronic condition still in my drafts so um...oops haha

Anyway here’s what I think! Under the cut for length, and note, we'll be tossing together some lore and headcanons here!

I think you can have it either way! The orb itself seems to react to magic and neglect in the game and he can also trigger the glow at will. In other words, we see it when it flares up after being neglected (i.e., when it pains him), when he absorbs a magic item to feed it, and occasionally when himself triggers the orb (to show you its hunger, or in a darker turn, to trigger the explosion).

It’s a fandom addition that the orb glows during periods of high emotion/stress/desire, but it’s a good headcanon! It makes sense logically in the game. If the orb's glow is triggered by hunger, desperation, etc, why not other emotions?

(And, side note, it’s been a minute since I’ve played BG3 so I could be neglecting to remember a scene where emotion does trigger the glow, and if so that’s my bad!)

Anyway, one of the things that triggers the glow is hunger. Hunger for magic and power, usually. But desire is a kind of hunger too, especially carnal desire. So does the orb glow during sex? Probably! Other people have explored this at length and there are some very fun headcanons about it floating around.

Does the orb glow during sex after Gale has tossed the Crown of Karsus aside and learned to manage his hunger/desires? That’s a more interesting question.

Again, it could go either way. In certain dialogue at the docks scene, Gale says he’ll have to keep feeding the orb eventually. He treats it like it’ll be a lifelong chronic condition. So if the orb lit up before during sex, it certainly will continue to light up post-Netherbrain!

Gale: Perhaps that’s the best place for it. Away from the meddling of mortals and Mystra alike. It’s not exactly the outcome Elminster hoped I would achieve, but it’s the best I could do with the time his charm bought for me. I feel the faintest prickling of hunger from the orb already. It will not remain under the sway of his spell forever.

But when you get to his little post-docks bedroom scene, the one where he proposes, he says the orb has changed. It seems to have calmed, though he isn’t totally sure of the effects or limitations yet. Mind you, this is romance-only, so does a romance help quell the orb's hunger better than friendships or Gale going about on his own? Possibly!

Tav: You seem very relaxed. The orb isn’t on the verge of exploding yet then? Gale: It’s strange. I woke up this morning and realised the orb feels different. No clamour, no desperation, no hunger. I hesitate to say if, but I think it’s…satisfied. I’ll need to keep a careful study of it, make sure it’s not suddenly destabilized by proximity to a rogue pair of Netherese sandals, mind you, but I think it’s dormant. That’s a worry I can leave behind me, at least. Tav: was it Mystra’s doing? Gale: It could be. Or perhaps the orb’s hunger was fueled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.

It sounds like the orb is dormant, which would suggest no glow. But it's not settled, necessarily, either since Gale suspects it could still flare up. The more important thing is that it's not volatile.

He also says in the epilogue, if you toss the Crown, that Mystra reassures him that the orb won't bother him again. This is if you're friends with Gale, rather than romancing him:

Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful just to be 'Gale' for the evening. I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. She sought me out, not long after we went our separate ways, and assured me neither she nor the orb should pose me any threat in the future. Of course, it's still in there. A constant reminder of my former hubris, and a surprisingly effective means of keeping my more disobedient students in line. Perhaps a tad too effective.

So, after all that…does it still glow?

It’s up to you to decide! I think it’s fun imagining Gale intentionally lighting up his orb when his students get too rowdy just to watch the sudden hush it puts over the classroom. I think it’s fun imagining that the orb still glows when he gets excited, angry, horny, or even (sadly) stressed. I think that falls in line with details in the game.

And even though it’s dormant, that doesn’t mean the glow has to stop. One, you can headcanon whatever you want haha but if you feel like the lore should support it, just think of it this way: the orb is no longer volatile and in search of arcane power and magic. But it’s still lodged right there over his heart, it’s still very in tune with his emotions (probably). And he says it’s possible to be orb was fueled by his own hunger, and that his current contentment is what keeps it calm as well.

So if, say, he were to experience another type of hunger (for example, “oh my Mystra if I don’t take my lover over this desk right now I will combust” types of hunger) then I’m sure the orb does glow!

Therefore, yes, if he still has the orb in his chest I think it very much still glows during sex.

Hope that answers your question! Thanks for the ask 🥰

[seat-safety-switch]

I love my fireworks, say all my neighbours as they cram a flimsy plastic tube full of low-yield explosives. Surely everyone in my community will also appreciate them. If not, they are some kind of Grumpy Gus and are not invited to the block party cookout. Friends, I can tell you this right now: I am not going to that barbecue.

As you might have imagined, the residents of my area of the world like to shoot off a bunch of Roman candles when they feel like it. Sure, fireworks are fun and all, but I feel like if you're burning three or four hundred dollars worth of illegal noise-and-light generators every couple of weeks, you might as well just take up smoking again.

At first, it was a lot of fun. Very festive. It helped the community spirit, even if all the dogs were constantly terrified and kept trying to chew through a fence to escape. Ol' Ray down the block lost a finger trying to grab onto what he called a "Winky Sprinkler," though, and then everything changed.

Once there was a scent of blood in the air, it became a competition. Ray needed to "make it worth" his sacrifice, so he started amping up his production. Bigger shows. Coordinated by electronics. More frequently. This drew the ire of another rich asshole (Bob Winsome, who used to own the Ford dealership) with poor impulse disorder, and soon the two of them were getting up to a night-time artillery show that the police were not equipped to stop, mostly because they were at the doughnut store or trying to knock over a casino for some quick cash in the retirement fund at the time.

Nearly every night became a terror of pop-pop-pop. although I am very good at ignoring troublesome noises, those noises are usually generated by my own car while I'm driving them. Not constantly happening while I'm trying to focus on my usual problems: things like "why is this bolt stripped," and "where did this pile of wires I just cut through go to?"

As the Constitution says, though: "fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." After one particularly rough night of having exploding munitions going off directly over my head while I was trying to find the origin of some faint valve clatter, I decided to respond in kind. A friend of mine, who will be called Millie Teri for reasons that are about to become clear, loaned me a couple pieces from her private collection. I had myself a patriotic parade that night. Courtesy, of course, of some army bases didn't really pay too close attention to what they listed on eBay. That's what they call "taxpayer value," even if I did have to technically buy the low-shrapnel M107 flash shells twice.

I had expected to draw a truce after demonstrating my superior firepower, much like how French tourists can shut down any discussion of cheese. After bombarding both rich pricks' homes, however, it soon became apparent that the dickheads blamed each other for the massive destruction wrought on their properties, and refused to believe that a belligerent third party could have done such a thing to them just for "several months of sleepless nights courtesy of constant 120dB outside noise."

After the mutually-assured destruction finished, though, I never saw or heard another fireworks display from Ol' Ray or Bob Winsome. If they ever find an identifiable chunk of either of their bodies, we'll probably have a pretty cool tribute at the funeral using up whatever unexploded fireworks they have still left in the scorched remnants of their family homes.

[peaterookie]

Lupin Week 2024 Day 4: AUs and Mythology

Goemon's face looks like he's seen a ghost.

ahhhh god ok my stupid stupid silly au i made a year ago.... this will be a bit long so get ready

tldr: lupin died, the gang is alive. goemon finds lupin but he's a shark merman!? and lupin remembers nothing!!!

long version:

so this AU follows upon the story of shin lupin, which basically, the gang gets killed off by zenigata because he rigged an island full of explosives.

instead of them all dying however, lupin decides to knock the gang unconscious and find a way for them to escape off the island safely, leaving only him in the island to die.

the rest of the gang had no idea how they escaped and assumed that lupin had sacrificed himself for them. they woke up adrifted on the ocean until they eventually got picked up by a ship where the invisible captain from new adventures returns. but ah ill spare the details for another day

---

2 years have passed and the gang just kinda separated to do their own thing. we'll only focus on goemon cuz he's the featured character of this comic.

goemon decided to escape the life of crime that has burdened him for years living as a part of the lupgang. he's mostly a wanderer now and tries to do good and help people along the way

funnily enough, goemon is not the first person to find lupin, but I'll talk about this later. but goemon is definitely very mixed about seeing his friend who he thought was dead for years. he doesn't know whether to be happy or worried.

---

lupin, at the brink of death after the explosion, plummets down the ocean and wakes up one day, feeling like he's been rebirthed!

essentially, lupin became a merman because right before he could die, his body (i mean what's left of it 💀) interacted with a magic crystal that has the ability to grant life to a living being.

It's really rare, but it exists in clusters deep in the ocean floor or- deep under the rocks of an island :) you can say im bullshitting, which i am but i dont think exploding an entire island down to every rock has happened before, so it can kinda make sense why something so coincidental about these crystals could happen. (I AM TOTALLY MAKING EXCUSES I JUST WANTED TO MAKE LUPIN A MERMAN.)

and so these crystals used whats left of lupins body and reassembled him back, and idk other essences of the ocean to make him a merman!

the memories of his past life have definitely been buried deep inside his brain to the point he can't remember any of it though, so he thinks that he was born under the ocean and has lived there for his entire life. other than that he retains almost everything about himself, down to stealing stupid shit and messing with humans just for the fucks of it. he's kinda seen as like a nessie.

---

anyways, y'know how i said goemon wasn't the first one to meet lupin? that's because lupin has met zenigata before!

living a life with only fishes around means lupin's kinda lonely and likes to stalk humans sometimes. the interaction with him and zenigata did not end well though, and lupin has no idea why zeni wants him dead so much.

after that he's way more cautious around people that look like zenigata- hatted big men with guns. its gonna be fun once he sees jigen.

ok what else... i think that's all i want to reveal now. will i do more of this? maybe. maybe not. kinda embarrassed of this because of how silly it is but i hope you people find this interesting! byebye

[r0semultiverse]

How Homestuck Beyond Canon Candy Timeline has/will have parallels with Homestuck proper around and during the events of [S] Game Over

Jane Crocker heavily aligned/influenced by with Crocker Corp. Notice how her neck accessory looks very similar to the Crocker computer tiara. There's also the circuits surrounding the button, which are reminiscent of Crockertier Jane's visual mind control effect by The Condesce.

Jane also kind of looks like The Condesce with how she's silhouetted here.

The head of Crocker Corporation on a large Crocker space ship. A ship which I would like to point out looks eerily similar to the ship that The Condesce flies around in except the forks/sporks are facing the opposite direction and it's got black on it instead of mostly red.

Jake dying at the hands of Crocker influenced Jane and coming back to life parallels with this Jane coming close to killing Jake, but stopping right before death. Same green text too.

The cast of characters surrounding this time in the comic are also similar.

We also got the whole Crocker laser beam of death being hinted at which we've absolutely seen before.

I talked about this in one of my previous theories, Jake is getting a better grasp of his hope powers; so, I think we could see another hope explosion again in some capacity out of Jake's concern for Tavvy.

I could also totally see Jake being held hostage by one of the Crocker Clones A.K.A. the Brig Boys and Kanaya cutting them up with her chainsaw (hopefully avoiding Jake).

This is more of a little side detail, but Vriska is once again on the sidelines while this massive important fight takes place because she's trapped in her own personal Hell this time.

CHARACTER DEATH FLAGS - I don't know how to organize this post and there was a lot more potential evidence to this than I thought there was going into it.

Let me preface this with the fact that the existential split between Meat and Candy sometimes seems to try to course correct itself and much like certain peoples DNIs, it doesn't want any doubles. We see this with Dirk, Dave (he died even if he ascended to ultimate self afterwards), June/J/John, Terezi(seemingly), Meenah (her other self is in the black hole with Lord English so we can't necessarily confirm death but yknow), Aradia (is just Aradia), Gamzee, Calliope (that is a whole complex situation), and Rose (if her future sight is correct, but we'll get to that). Those are the only examples I can think of at this time, but it's absolutely a repeating pattern of the universe sort of course-correcting to have only one of each of our main characters exist at a time. This, at least in the cases of Dirk, Dave, & Rose seems to be related to the ascension to ultimate self, but we can't really say if that's why the other characters only get one existence at this time.

Karkat has has at least 2 deaths from around this time, one involving Crockertier Jane as well which could be a sign of things to come.

Rose's death flag is that she has literally foreseen her death in her future sight. She is thinking about Kanaya and Roxy in the same thought process while seeing her own death, feeling full of regret (even though she's trying to repress her own feelings) about her relationship to Roxy and Kanaya. Very similar to her being regretful as she was dying in Roxy's arms. I'm also guessing the bullet that hits her will be from Jake's gun, just throwing that out as a possibility.

ROSE: What... ROSE: Happened to me? ROXY: the witch got u ROXY: with her fork ROXY: but youre gonna be ok ROSE: Oh. ROSE: That's nice. ROSE: *Cough.* ROXY: maybe you uh ROXY: shouldnt try to talk now ROSE: You saved me, didn't you? ROXY: ... ROSE: Thanks. ROSE: But, ROSE: She's gone, isn't she. ROSE: For good, I mean. ROXY: ? ROSE: I saw her die. ROSE: And. ROSE: It's a shame how... ROSE: *Cough.* ROSE: A shame that I never even... ROSE: Got to tell her... ROSE: I loved her. ROXY: who?

ROSE: Kanaya. ROSE: But... ROSE: You too, mom.

Kanaya also has a death flag here in getting hit by The Condesce's laser beam of death, but it's more of a maybe given that we see Rose's future vision of Kanaya holding her body in her arms. Keep in mind though we also had this bit of dialogue about the reliability of future sight right before we saw that vision.

JADE: dont forget im more than a little versed in future sight myself ok JADE: i dont care how credible it seems, you cant depend on that information!

Jake and Jane are also on the chopping block potentially, but I can't think of a way at this time, unless Kanaya mistakes Jake for one of the clones amidst her rage and ends up cutting through him along with the Crocker clones. The one pictured below was done by Aranea who is out of the story. Maybe Meenah's trident hits Jake somehow or something, I don't know. We also have meat Jake and Jane who are doing more okay.

On top of the parallels to the doomed timeline that was [S] Game Over, we also had Vriska say that this reality was fake and didn't matter. I'm paraphrasing and I don't know if we'll get a doomed timeline situation yet with the 4 kids still in it, but I just thought the amount of parallels was interesting & worth pointing out.

I also wanted to get this out before the next update in case it's related to the flash animation and any of my predictions come true.

Alternatively I think the flash animation will be Ultimate Dirk kick starting his SBURB home brew session on Deltritus. He probably has all the tech and narrative powers to do it based on what we've seen, they just need a species they'll both be satisfied with as the players for the session.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - prologue

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY

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age 22 // medical intern

25th March

Munich, Germany

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It was way past midnight when Cassandra finally managed catching a break. Her one obligatory night shift had only started a little over three hours ago, but attending physicians from the previous shifts had passed their patients to the night shift, half of the senior doctors were at a national conference and her supervisor was running around and taking care of everything - which meant Cassandra, as one of her interns, was also running around and taking care of everything she could.

After documenting and assisting at a catheterization and an intubation done by one of the attending seniors, she finally found her first free five minutes. 

Stepping out into the fresh night air, she leaned her arms on the railing of the ER entrance. Tying her coppery curls into a ponytail before fiddling out a protein bar from the pocket of her blue scrubs. Having to suppress a moan when taking a bite from it. Not even minding that she once again hit her elbow on the railing, nothing new for her anyway.

The night at the hospital was rather tranquil, at least compared to the workload during daytime, and she had time to go back to her paper work.

So much paper work..

It was her own fault, though, volunteering to assist her supervisor in a presentation about pulmonalis purpura but she needed these bonus points. Extra tasks like these always earned them bonus points, credits and also looked great on a CV after graduation.

With a sigh, she unwrapped the last piece of the protein bar when muffled voices disrupted the peaceful silence, coming from the direction of the parking lot.

Her eyes tried to find the source when spotting two young men with a third one between them, his arms draped around their shoulders as they carried him towards the entrance. And her eyes shot open when realising the one in the middle was beinf practically dragged, seemingly unconscious.

Stuffing the rest of the bar into her mouth and shoving the wrapper into her pocket, her instinct kicked in, despite being still in training, and she rushed towards them. Immediatelly spotting the dark liquid on the side of the guy's face from up-close.

"What happened?" she asked after swallowing the rest of her midnight snack.

The other young men struggled to answer and she decided to press one more time.

"There was a.. minor explosion. Something hit his head," one of them finally answered and she nodded. A possible concussion, she concluded. "Ok, we'll take care. I'll call the attending phy-"

"No!" the other, rounder-faced guy exclaimed with evident panic in his voice, taking her aback. The second guy quickly taking over with an uneasy smile. 

"Look, Doc, we'd prefer if that stayed between us. You see.." He chuckled lightly, his lips curving into a smile that could convince anyone to anything. And Cassandra's guard went down for a second. "..people are looking for us. Not that nice people." His eyes giving her a look of appeal. "So we'd appreciate it if you took care of our friend in.. let's say, secret."

She folded her arms then in an attempt to look confident, when really all she felt was nervous. If she understood the signs correctly, these guys knew the hospital stuff had to inform police about a potential explosion-injury and they clearly didn't want that. Meaning something was off about them.

They might be looking quite young, around her age or a bit older with way too friendly looking faces to be mobsters, but you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

She was afraid of them trying to intimidate her in some way. The pure possibility making her heart anxiously beating faster.

Much to her surprise, however, their expressions softened instead and genuine concern was written all over their flustered faces.

"Please, don't inform the cops about our friend."

He wasn't demanding it, he was asking or rather pleading for it. And frankly, Cassandra hadn't expected that.

Clenching her jaw, she swallowed.

It wasn't a warning her gut sent her. No, it wasn't trying warning her of potential danger. And yet, she could tell they still were trouble. That she was sure of.

However, their request went beyond her responsibility. She was a mere intern. She knew she should persist onto calling one of the attending doctors. Or even an assistant one. Or at least a nurse. Literally anyone with an actual medical license. 

Her eyes fell onto the unconscious one of the three then. And the fresh blood gracing his temple and cheek under the fringe that was covering his closed eyes. He definitely couldn't wait any longer for medical attention. Who knew how long he d been unconscious. The longer they waited, the severer the potential damage.

"If I don't accept you'll try at another hospital, right?"

"Most likely," his friend replied with a bashful, almost apologetic smile.

Exhaling deeply, she released her arms and let them fall onto her sides. "Alright, but if it's something I can't handle you will let me call for additional medical stuff."

"We-"

"That's non-negotiable. Otherwise good luck trying finding another idiot like me who's willing to help you. And while driving around town to look for one, your friend might bleed out or worse."

She was exaggarrating of course, even with no license yet, she could tell it was probably just a mere concussion and laceration with no actual threat of bleeding out. Although the unconsciousness was worrisome. So she bluffed in hopes they'd agree.

And seeing them exchanging an uncertain look, it looked like it worked.

The one with the charming smile glanced at their friend who they were propping up, feeling his weight growing heavier by the minute.

"Tough negotiation but okay."

Content and a little proud of herself, she nodded and started walking towards the emergency room entrance. Waving them over her shoulder. "Let me check if the coast's clear."

With an uneasy feeling, she went inside. Seeing no one but a man with an icepack on his shoulder in the waiting area. He was facing the wall, back turned towards the entrance. Meanwhile, the nurse on duty was currently nowhere in sight, missing from her position behind the glass of the counter. Having probably gone to the restroom or to get something.

Cassandra huffed internally. Not understanding why there weren't two people on duty in case someone with a serious emergency came in and wouldn't find anyone. But right now it was practical in her case, so she didn't complain about the buget cutbacks.

Giving the waiting guys a sign, they quickly followed her in. Passing by the man who didn't really pay attention anyway, preoccupied by his own injury, and hushed past the counter and through the double door. 

She led them to one of the currently empty exam rooms, watching them carrying the unconscious man to the examination table. And she pulled out her small flashlight, opening his eyelids to check the pupil's reaction. 

Normal, thankfully.

No indication for increased cranial pressure. So far medical stuff wasn't needed. Or well, they would be but not necessary yet, since these guys wanted to go undocumented.

She untangled her stethoscope then, making sure his cardiac cycle was normal as well. 

The patient was stable, but still unconscious. 

She couldn't, however, perform a CT scan, MRI or any other medical test - neither had she learned how nor was she qualified yet. So she decided to proceed with trying to make him gain consciousness. And if he didn't react, then she'd persist in calling an actual physician.

Remembering her training so far, next in line was inducing different stimuli like tactile. So she began applying light pressure to his face like the eyebrow bone or the jaw joint to cause adequate discomfort. Observing his features turning into a grimace of annoyance, indicating he felt the pressure. Good. She firmly pressed his knuckles up and down the sternum then, his fingers contracting.

"What's his name?" Her sudden question pulling the other two out of their absentmindness while watching her perform.

"Huh?"

"His name. Start speaking to him for verbal stimulus to help him gain conscience."

Seemingly hesistant first, the silent one with the rounder face and smaller eyes spoke up then. "Taehyung. It's Taehyung."

"Taehyung," she repeated firmly, tapping Taehyung's cheek just the right amount of harsh to ensure he felt it for a noxious stimulus, "Can you hear me?"

His head moved away from her touch, the expression on his face shifting to a frown when a whine of pain left his lips. "Hey, come on, wake up. Your friends here are worried!" 

She was about to give his cheek another light slap, when she got stopped mid-air by his hand gripping her wrist firmly.

His eyes shot open then. And a pair of mesmerizing dark irises suddenly stared back at hers, causing Cassandra to freeze.

She knew it was medically impossible to knock someone's breath out of their lungs. And yet, in this moment she wondered if it was possible to develop at least a sudden dyspnea - a shortness of breath - without any prior cause or trauma at all, just by locking gazes with someone.

Their eyes were of similar colour, it was the first thing he noted. The very first thought that crossed his mind. The same deep brown shade as his own, and yet so very different. He didn't think ever seeing more beautiful warm brown eyes than hers before. As though he was looking at her through the sight of a sniper rifle, zoomed in all the way, the world pausing for that tiny span of time between the pressing and release of the trigger.

They held each other's gaze for a second longer, until the sense of his throbbing head caught him out and he had to screw his eyes back shut from the pain. Letting go of her wrist.

At this, Cassandra blinked and took a step back, her blank mind slowly getting flooded with thoughts again. 

His friend approached then, giving Taehyung a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "Hey man, you hear us?"

With a scrunching face, a light groan escaped his lips. "Yoongi?"

"And Jimin!" the other one chirped in, shoving Yoongi away in excitement, "You're awake!"

Another groan followed.

The young men started talking energetically, relieved and happy seeing their friend having gained his consciousness again, not noticing Cassandra standing there. For some reason unable averting her eyes from Taehyung.

She had been so focused on making him gain consciousness again without screwing up, she hadn't paid attention to anything else. But ever since seeing his wide almond eyes, something had shifted. And she felt herself breathing irregularly.

Blinking her eyes repeatedly, she forced herself to eventually look away and re-focus on his treatment. 

Patient was conscious again, that was good. This meant she could pay attention to the source of the blood now. 

"Would you step back and let me check his wound?" she quietly asked then. Jimin and Yoongi immediately obeying and giving her space. Taehyung blinked an eye open through the throbbing when hearing her voice.

"How do you feel? Are you fully awake now?" she carefully asked him then, avoiding his eyes the best she could while inspecting the cut at his hairline.

"Yeah.. but I wished I wasn't. My head is.. aching pretty badly."

"That's normal." She couldn't legally give him anything but Ibuprofen 400, perhaps there was some in one of the cabinets. She'd check later. Right now some other things were more important. "Do you remember anything? I mean, do you know your name, age and what happened?"

"You're asking if I got amnesia? I don't," he said with a hollow laugh. Eyes closing shut again.

She hummed, grabbing a pair of disposible gloves from the counter. "Where am I though?"

"The hospital," Jimin explained with a sigh of disapproval. "You didn't leave us much of a choice, man. You were unconscious and had blood on your face. Like.. damn. For a second I was actually scared."

Taehyung snickered tiredly at his friend's whining, attempting to prop himself up when Yoongi pushed him back down. "Just lay down for a moment, you were out of it for quite some time."

Pushing his hand away when his face contorted due to another wave of pain. "I'm fine, don't worry."

"You don't look like that though."

"Listen to your friend." Cassandra's stern voice making him perk up. "And besides, you probably need some stitches first."

"And you are..?"

"Cassandra," she said unfazed while holding up a sterilized needle. Motioning to the other two who had huddled over him in the short moment she prepared her stitching utensils, "Now, if you could move, please."

"No offence but.. how old are you?" Yoongi asked then with sharp eyes narrowing at her. He had noticed her young-looking face before as well, but he hadn't cared much back then considering Taehyung's condition. Now, however, she was holding a needle in her hands, about to patch up his younger friend.

The crease between her brows deepened. "Turning twenty-three soon, why?"

"Are you even a doctor?"

She straightened herself as she took a few steps closer to the actual patient among the three, the one on the bed with the laceration.

"Oh, now you suddenly care?" Her lips tucked into a sarcastic smirk aimed at him, seeing him fold his lips. "I am an intern - if you must know."

"So technically n-"

"God, Yoongi, who cares?" the injured one scowled, followed by a groan, "I'm dying here! Just let her do her thing already!"

"Aw, don't be so dramatic, you won't die," Jimin rolled his eyes. Launching for a pat on the shoulder before remembering Taehyung was in pain. 

His attention turned to Cassandra then. It wasn't the first time she had to encounter overly noisy and worried relatives. With her signature smile that was more a habit of politeness, but which she genuinely felt like doing when seeing Jimin's friendly face, she nodded. Trying to reassure them that yes, he wouldn't die.

"I'll take care of it," she said then. The two standing guys exchanged a glance, looking down at their friend who was screwing shut his eyes.

"You sure you can handle that?" Yoongi asked, this time his voice holding genuine concern as he peeked down at Taehyung.

"Yeah, don't worry. My orange was the best stitched one, so I'm pretty confident," she waved them off.

Her proud announcement only earning her puzzled looks from them though. "Orange?"

She nodded with a wide grin. "Yeah, one of the senior surgeons showed us how to do stitches and we practiced on oranges. And mine was the best."

Yoongi couldn't help but look at her in disbelief. "Are you for rea-" 

Not letting him complete his sentence, Jimin began pushing him aside. "We're gonna let you do your job now, don't worry." Cassandra didn't miss Yoongi suppressing a wince on his face, but she brushed it off in that moment. Letting out a breath.

"Don't mind them, they're noisy but mean no harm."

She turned around, facing her actual patient who was flashing her a weak smile before his face turned into a grimace once again. And she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Grit your teeth, okay? It'll sting."

He only inhaled deeply and nodded. Allowing her to clean the wound and apply an antisepticum, making him flinch as expected, before she got to work on the actual stitches. As she had done the first one, she cleared her throat. Peeking at him nervously. After all, this was the closest she'd ever been to him. And she also pitied him. Doing this without a local anaestheticum was most likely very uncomfortable.

"So.." she began and felt his smile on her.

"It's Taehyung-" He paused, she assumed because of the wound. Not noticing him nervously folding his lips.

"Yeah, I know," she smiled absentmindedly, focusing on stitching which was a whole lot more nerve-wrecking when two other pair of eyes were staring at her from above. Definitely didn't have that issue when it was only an orange. She huffed a laugh then, peeking at the two who quickly retreated to the far back. "Shouldn't you guys actually use pseudonyms in front of a stranger like me?"

"Oh, should we?" Taehyung weakly grinned.

She shrugged with a shippish smirk. "You clearly are on the run, considering your friends wouldn't let me inform anyone about you. Who knows, I might still get the cops.."

"Nah. You won't." He said it so matter-of-factly that it astonished her quite a lot, the faith he had in a stranger like her.

"Why not?"

Jimin appeared next to her all of a sudden and stooped down to tilt his head at her with his award-winning smile. "'Cause we trust you, so you wouldn't do it. Right?"

"Trusting a stranger, huh," she giggled more to herself than anything, focusing back on the stitches. "Isn't that quite naive?"

Unexpectedly, he laughed out at this, bemused instead of feeling offended.

"You must know," Yoongi spoke up then with a crooked grin, motioning his chin to Jimin, "He's pretty good in analysing and looking through people. So if he deems you trustworthy, you most likely are."

"He's right," Taehyung mumbled. Unable to add much more due to the additional stinging he felt from the needle, as if his headache wasn't enough.

In all honesty, if he had it his way, he'd have preferred lying to her.

Not that he wouldn't feel bad. She seemed nice after all, but she had a point. It was risky revealing real names. Not only for them but also for her.

And it was already bad enough Jimin and Yoongi had to bring him to the ER because he'd got injured like an amateur. Risking them getting caught because of his own mistake.

And her, an innocent bystander, knowing would probably cause more trouble. However, he also understood why they had to let her in to some degree. Right now, they depended on her help after all.

Cassandra only gave him a brief glance and hummed before quietly continuing the stitches.

She tried being trustworthy, but did she also look so trustworthy for strangers to include her in their secrets? Did she perhaps seem too trustworthy?

"You're an intern. So.. a student, huh?" he began then in an attempt to distract her mind in case it was still lingering over the cause of his injury.

"Yup, doing one of my internships right now," she explained, not minding the little exchange.

Frankly, she hadn't chosen that path for the prestige or money. She was one of the few ones in her year who genuinely did it for helping people. And therefore, she didn't mind interacting and talking with patients. Especially not cute ones with big brown eyes and an endearing smile. Those were pretty rare, at least in her two months there. And someone with a potentially questionable lifestyle - considering he got involved in explosions and had 'not nice people' being after him on top of it? No, that definitely didn't happen every day.

The stitches were done and she cut the thread before applying an adhesive plaster on the wound. She got up then, about to remove the gloves when she caught a better view of the other two. Only now taking an actual closer look on them with her not being on alert anymore because of Taehyung. In the hospital lights and without any distractions, she saw they didn't look too good either. Clothes torn on the edges, abrasions and splashes of blood gracing their skin.

"Are you guys injured as well?"

They shook their heads.

"Nah, just some scratches," Jimin ensured her, while Yoongi remained quiet in his seat on the chair at the corner of the room. She eyed him suspiciously as she noticed he had been absentmindedly rubbing his right shoulder until he caught her narrowed eyes on him. Making him squint his eyes in irritation.

"Is something on my face?" he tried joking, his laugh quickly dropping when she stepped in front of him. Her face softened then and she shook her head.

"No, no.. just, would you be so nice and get me that box of gauze from the shelf up there? I'm too short to reach these shelves."

He followed the direction her finger pointed at and nodded, not questioning why she wouldn't ask Jimin who was already standing. Getting up instead to walk to said shelf. As his right arm stretched for the gauze, however, he abruptly stopped. Jaw clenching. He lowered the arm again slowly, only to face her with a forced smile.

"That one, yeah?"

She nodded. Her lips tucked into an innocent smile as she anticipated his next move. And he reached out again, but with his other arm this time instead.

Caught you.

"Here ya go- ouchh!" The box almost slipped from his grip as his muscles jerked away from her finger pressing onto his shoulder. Turning around, he came across her knowing look.

"You're also injured, aren't you?"

"Wh-"

Taehyung and Jimin's eyes grew wide when observing the scene. Understanding now how her request was on purpose. And yet, they remained confused on how she had actually noticed in such a short time.

"What? You're also injured?" Jimin questioned then with worried eyes, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Am no- Ouch! Can you stop doing that?" Yoongi whined and stared bewildered at Cassandra as she had pressed it again.

"Just let her take a look already."

He only let out a quiet grump at Taehyung's suggestion. A look of defeat crossing his features then as he saw Cassandra's victorious smile. "Fine."

Unbuttoning his shirt, he pushed off the fabric to reveal the shoulder. The shirt was black so no one had noticed the dried blood from the lengthy cut. 

"The fck."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He gritted his teeth, looking away in shame. "It's nothing."

"That's not nothing," Cassandra huffed at his light description of an already inflamed puncture, shaking her head in disapproval as she prepared a new thread. Pushing him into taking a seat again. "I doubt that one was also caused by an explosion," she said as she began cleaning the wound and Yoongi avoided their concerned eyes.

"No, that one isn't from tonight. It's.. whatever. I was distracted for a second. That's all." 

Truth was he'd got distracted over a backfire two days ago. He hadn't fully paid attention to his surroundings, something that never happened, and one of those jerks from a local gang had taken advantage of it. Mainly Yoongi's ego and pride felt bruised, if anything.

Finishing those stitches up as well, she pressed a tube of antibiotic gel into his chest, which he hesitantly accepted with a raised brow. And she finally removed the gloves.

"Next time you get stabbed you'll get immediate treatment, got it?" Her tone was stern and lecturing, remininiscent of a mother's and Yoongi had to stifle a chuckle. Biting back any sarcasm threatening to leave his lips and smiled at the shorter woman. "Sure, 'Doc'."

She nodded contently. Whether he genuinely meant it or not, she didn't care. Facing the other two then who had watched in amusement as their older friend got scolded.

After rummaging through the drawers, she managed finding a pack of nonprescriptive painkillers, which she handed to Taehyung as well. Receiving a bashful 'thank you' from them all.

"And no more explosions, alright?" Her voice softer now as she smirked. "Heard they're dangerous."

The three men exchanged a look then. And they grinned. "Explosion? Did we say that?"

Cassandra frowned, irritated by their grins. "Uh, yeah, you.."

"Are you sure we did?"

A look of appeal in their eyes as they tried emphasising Taehyung's question.

And her brows rose, beginning to understand. She pursed her lips, huffing out a laugh eventually.

Her pager went off then, her supervisor probably wondering where she had wandered off. Sighing, she slipped it back in.

"Whatever. You can stay here for a couple of hours to ensure your friend is completely fine, if you want. But just so you know, if any stuff members catch you here, you don't know me. Alright?"

"Never seen your pretty face before, got it," Jimin winked and she felt her cheeks heating at his unexpected compliment. She coughed then, straightening herself. "G-good."

Taehyung only groaned annoyed, before chunking down two pills from the pack. "Stop flirting with every woman and let her go already."

"Alright, alright, releasing you from your duty now," he chuckled, flashing her a smile, "Thank you again."

She reciprocated Jimin's smile and with that, she left the room after ensuring the corridors were empty and no one saw her.

As she made her way to the ground floor, she already laid out a perfect explanation in case someone did catch these guys and found out she, an intern, helped them without notifying any medical stuff or official documentation.

She'd simply say they threatened her. Yes, the perfect explanation why she had done it. There wasn't any other option left for her after all without facing severe consequences for her studies and future.

It wasn't too far from reality anyway. Sure, they hadn't actually threatened her. But they could've, in case they were petty-criminals or worse.

Shaking her head, she laughed at her paranoid self. Realising it wasn't like she'd done something ethically or morally bad by treating them. Sure, she hadn't graduated yet but as an aspiring doctor she also honoured the principles of medical confidentiality and non-maleficence. 

With a deep breath, she calmed her rising anxiety before entering the staff room where her supervisor had called her to. Reminding herself that even if everything came crushing down, she was just an intern with no legal responsibilities.

Thankfully the reason her supervisor had called was to assign Cassandra to another task. To keep an eye on an operated patient who needed to be checked every few hours and notify her if needed.

So the young medical student made her way back to the elevator across the entrance area to head to the patient's floor, looking forward to the rest of her night being uneventful. Her eyes catching three men standing at the reception then.

Their attire sparkling her interest more than anything as it was the opposite of how the three lads downstairs at the ER looked like. Long coats over what seemed to be suits, neatly combed back hair and their tone serious as they spoke in a hushed voice to the receptionist.

Not paying any more attention, she headed to the vending machine, deciding to get a chocolate bar first for some extra energy when the men left through the double doors behind the reception. Her eyes narrowed while following their hasty steps. Perhaps she was just high off the adrenaline of doing something basically illigal, but without hesitation and a lot of curiosity she walked up to the receptionist.

"Who were they? They look important."

The receptionist, a woman in her early thirties, glanced around as if to make sure no one would eavesdrop before she bent over with a bored expression.

"Cops or something. I didn't quite understand, to be honest."

Cassandra's heartbeat dropped at this. "C-cops?"

"I don't know, yes and no? They said something about interpol."

Fck. She tried her best not to let the woman notice her panic. "What would they want here?"

The woman leaned back into her chair. "They're looking for some criminal, I guess. Were asking if any young korean men with brown hair and eyes got possibly committed here tonight."

"I see.. And what did you tell them?"

"There wasn't anyone in the system committed tonight who fits the age or description," she sheepishly laughed out. "And I didn't recognise the name or photo they showed me, either. So they said they'd check themselves."

Check themselves? Did they plan to go to every station and look into every room?

"That's.. interesting." Cassandra faked a laugh and then pretended going back to the vending machine only to hurriedly enter through the door beside it to the staircase.

That wasn't good, not good at all. Interpol? She thought some goons or maybe the cops would be after them tops. But interpol? That was international. That was way bigger than local police.

She sprinted down the stairs to the lower level where ER was located as fast as she'd ever sprinted in her life, reaching the bottom completely panting but still pushing through and making her way through the station. Tripping over her own fit and even bumping her shoulder at a corner out of hurry. She sneaked her way past the nurse station then, the nurse having returned by now but luckily preoccupied with organising some files.

So far no sight of the interpol agents. She genuinely hoped the guys had already left the room and were long gone. But when she opened the door was greeted by three familiar and startled pairs of eyes.

With a swift moved she shut the door behind her, pressing her body against it with heavy breaths.

"Some interpol agents were asking about recently hospitalised young korean men with brown hair and eyes. You don't think that sounds familiar, do you?"

Taehyung's thick brows rose and he swallowed hard. An apologetical grin playing on his lips then. "Well, you see.. funny story.." His hand went to scratch the back of his neck nervously. Unable to come up with a decent explanation to why an interpol agent was in search for someone looking like him. The only logical sounding thing his mind could come up with was that it was a simple coincidence, but something told him she was way too smart to fall for such an obvious lie.

Much to his relief Jimin took over instead. "Was one of them tall with broad shoulders and a trenchcoat?"

"Well, y-yeah. I guess? Don't they all look like this?"

"Hm, was he also handsome?"

She blinked, taken aback by their seemingly apathy of the situation. Shouldn't they be worried? Appalled even? "I don't know, I didn't see any faces. You know him?"

"Well," Jimin mused, "If he's tall, handsome with broad shoulder and a coat, it's pops."

"'Pops'?!" Confusion was quickly replaced with bewilderment on her face.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, sighing. "Agent Kim Seokjin, one of the interpol agents assigned to us. We.." His voice trailed off, as he was fidgeting around his words. "We.."

They all grew quiet, uncertain glances being exchanged between them and Cassandra slowly became fed up with their secrecy. Her head spinning by now.

With quick steps she stood in front of Taehyung who was avoiding her inquiring glare. She propped her hands on either side of him on the bed as she leaned in with a look so eery and penetrating that evoked a gulp from him.

"We're thieves," Yoongi deadpanned then from behind her, so casually as if he had just announced they were common vendors. "We work internationally, that's why interpol is after us."

Jimin only sighed in defeat and nodded, followed by a light chuckle. "Cat's out of the bag now I guess."

Her brows arched at this.

Thieves. Actual thieves?  

They didn't look like it. They might be lying, but then again, how would she know what thieves looked like. 

Without letting her guard down, she instead narrowed her eyes at Taehyung in front of her who was giving her an insecure grin.

"If you don't want me to go up there and tell the interpol guys about you, you better tell me the whole story."

Yoongi clicked his tongue. "Why does it matter?" he wondered out loud, folding his arms.

"So I can determine what kind of thieves you are."

They were stunned by her confident attitude and he eventually nodded with a sense of respect towards her. "Alright, just tell her then," he said, motioning to Taehyung who was still quite perplexed by her fierce eyes staring daggers at his. "She'll read it tomorrow in the papers anyway."

"And don't even think about lying," Cassandra whispered, her face mere centimetres away from Taehyung's. "I got a sixth sense for that."

She didn't and Taehyung could tell her bluff, but he still decided to be honest with her. He didn't know why, but when she glared at him with those big angry eyes, trying to look intimidating but failing miserably and instead looking adorable as hell, he melted just a little bit and wanted to tell her anything she wanted.

"Ok, fine," he groaned in pretend-annoyance, looking away, "We're thieves, you know this much. We broke into the archive of an auction house to get an illegally-obtained figurine. But a gang that was also after it, showed up and one of these idiots triggered the alarm system. We escaped, but - again, those guys were brainless - they shot at us, we shot back. And one of their bullets hit the building's gas line then."

She inhaled sharply. "That caused the explosion.."

He gave her a nod, sighing. "And something hit my head.. and that's how we ended up here. Satisfied?"

She ponded over his words. Glancing at him contemplating. "This figurine was.. illegally-obtained? By the auctioneers?"

"Yeah. They bought it off from someone who stole it from its actual owner. And we're helping her to get it back as it also has a high emotional value to her, besides the obvious monetary one."

She hummed. Again, this guy could be lying his head off for all she knew and yet, something inside her told her he was sincere by the way his eyes were looking straight at hers instead of avoiding them.

A figurine from an auction house. That.. wasn't too bad. Was it? It could be worse. They could've been stealing old people's money.

She was probably a naive idiot, but she believed him. At least she wanted to. And yet, she didn't want to get fooled that easily in case it was a lie after all, which most likely was the case.

"You might lie," she pressed as to ensure her gut feeling. But his expression remained persistent. Holding her glance with certainty. 

"I might. But I'm not."

"He told you the truth," Jimin smiled then, gently placing his hand on her shoulder and making her back away from his friend. "If you don't believe us, fair enough. Me and Yoongi can still escape with ease. But Taehyungie here wouldn't be able to due to his dizziness and headache. So I'll still beg you not to inform pops."

She was an idiot, most clearly because to her they sounded sincere and it even warmed her heart a little how much they cared for their friend. Indeed, they could easily escape. They didn't even have to bring Taehyung there in the first place, it was a potential risk and yet they'd done it.

That told her enough about them for now.

She might regret it later on. Maybe the next day. Maybe in a week. A year. Who knew what consequences her complicity tonight might have.

But then again.. she was just a medical student doing one of her many internships there. She didn't have any responsibilities.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself off the bed and looked at the anticipating guys.

"Alright, follow me," she plainly said then, observing their postures relaxing.

"You won't snitch on us?" Yoongi asked, brow arching in doubt. Caution evident in his voice.

She rolled her eyes with a little giggle. "I'll probably regret it, but no. I'll try my best to keep your little secret between us. But perhaps you wanna change these clothes.." She wagged her index finger at their partially torn, burnt and bloody attire. "If anyone else sees you, I can't promise they won't."

"And what would you suggest, Doc?" Taehyung asked then with a curious smirk, to which Cassandra could only shrug cheekily.

"I may have a plan."

»»»

next chapter: 0.1 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @memna234 @tetehion

[rxmqnova]

Could you write Wanda x Venom reader when Wanda doesn't like Venom and always made a comment about it and because of that Yn doesn't like Wanda but they were on a mission and Wanda was in danger so Yn convinced Venom to help her and then when they were at the compound Wanda apologized to Venom and they become friends, being caotic friends and after that Wanda wanted to know more about Yn and Venom.

Maybe the ending can be an open one if you want, like them knowing each other more

Venom

Y/N: 25 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Alright, we have a location of another hydra base" Tony announces, starting the meeting he has just called.

"So we'll destroy it, what's the problem?" Sam asks confused by Tony's face impression.

"The problem is that this base is the biggest one we've ever found and we need to destroy it as soon as possible. Half of us is on different missions, so us, who are currently here, need to do it" Tony explains, looking at the 4 other Avengers.

"Well, I believe we're pretty capable and surely we'll manage" Y/N says, trying to encourage everyone.

"Says you who's hidden in some weird alien thing all the time" Wanda rolls her eyes.

Wanda and Y/N have never been friends. The Avengers have tried multiple times to make them friends but it never worked.

The thing is that Y/N has this 'alien thing' inside of her as Wanda said and the thing is called Venom. For some reason the witch just doesn't like Venom and for that Y/N doesn't like Wanda.

The two are always pretty mean to each other or arguing which is everyone on the team sick of already, but they can't do anything about it.

"Can we just eat her already?" Venom asks on which Y/N smirks at Wanda, ready to scare the witch a bit.

"Eat her? You have no idea how much I would love to do that right now" Y/N says on which Natasha rolls her eyes, knowing another argument is about to come.

"It did not just tell you it wants to eat me" Wanda says, giving Y/N a glare, trying to hide the fact that she's actually worried a bit. "How are we still keeping her here with this weird thing inside of her that wants to eat people?" The witch asks, looking at her teammates.

"Alright, you two just stop" Natasha sighs, having enough of this. "No one will be eating anyone, we need to focus on the mission"

"We still can eat her after" Venom says on which Y/N chuckles. She knows it'll make Wanda wonder what has Venom said.

———

The time has come, the 5 Avengers are fighting against the hydra agents that are currently in the hydra base.

"Guys, I need some help here" Wanda says through the ear piece.

"Y/N, you're the closest to her. Help Wanda" Tony orders, making Y/N sigh.

"Fine" Y/N answers a bit irritated and starts running to Wanda's direction, but Y/N's body suddenly stops, not being able to move. "Venom, what are you doing? She needs help" Y/N says, trying her best to move.

"Y/N, neither one of us likes her. We can just let them kill her and then eat her" Venom says.

"What?! Venom, we won't be eating her. She's a part of the team, we can't let her die" Y/N reasons, but that still doesn't convince Venom.

"Y/N, are you coming? I really need help" Wanda desperately asks, throwing the whole enemies thing behind.

"Venom, mask" Y/N orders.

"But-"

"I said mask. You can eat some hydra agents later, just help Wanda" Y/N promises even though she absolutely hates when Venom bites people's heads off. "On my way, Wanda" Y/N answers through the ear piece, finally on her way to the witch.

When Y/N gets to Wanda, her eyes widen. The witch is surrounded by so many hydra agents that are shooting at her while the ceiling is about to fall down in any second and Wanda's shield isn't working anymore.

Venom jumps into the middle of the room, taking Wanda into her arms and jumping through the window, placing her on the ground gently. The two can only hear an explosion and the ceiling falling down.

"You okay?" Y/N asks, back in her normal self again.

"Yeah, thanks" Wanda says, trying to hide the pain she's in as one of the agents shot her into her arm.

"You're hurt" Y/N kneels to the witch, tearing off a piece of her suit to put it over Wanda's wound. "Guys, Wanda's been shot into her arm. We need to get her back. How's it looking with you?" Y/N asks through the ear piece.

"We're nearly done, take her to the jet" Tony answers.

———

"How's your arm?" Y/N asks as soon as Wanda sits next to her on the couch, the two being the only ones in the living room right now.

"It's okay… I. Hm… I want to thank you… for saving me" Wanda says, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie.

"I don't think you should be thanking me, it wasn't me who saved you" Y/N says.

"… Does it listen or how does it work?" Wanda asks.

"Venom can hear you" Y/N answers, looking at Wanda curiously.

"Okay… Thank you for saving me there, Venom. And… I'm sorry for all the comments I've made" Wanda apologises.

Venom stays quiet on which Y/N furrows her brows.

"Venom?" Y/N raises an eyebrow. "What did we say about being nice to other people?"

"… Fine, apology accepted"

"He said he accepts your apology" Y/N smiles. "… I'm also sorry for being mean to you. I know that having Venom inside of me can seem weird or scary to some people and I didn't have to be that rude to you"

"… That's okay. I get it now" Wanda smiles a little. "How did the Venom thing even happen? I've never heard that story before" Wanda asks, playing with her fingers now.

"Probably because I've told the story only to Tony and Natasha" Y/N explains, also playing with her fingers. "… I broke into a lab. They were experimenting on people, but none of them survived the interaction with Venom. But I did somehow" Y/N shrugs. "How did you get your powers?" Y/N asks. She joined the Avengers after Wanda, so she has no idea how Wanda got her powers.

"… My brother and I joined hydra. We thought that Tony is responsible for our parents' death, so we joined for experiments which were successful" Wanda answers and the room falls quiet for a while. "Would you maybe… want to watch a movie with me?" Wanda asks, breaking the silence finally.

Y/N smiles, happy that her and Wanda are finally becoming friends. "I would love to"

----------------------

I had no idea how to write Venom reader as I've never done this before…

Hopefully it's not too bad😅

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[gotham-daydreams]

First, thank you for responding to my comment! Second, potential ‘consequences’….maybe upon finding out where reader lives (I’m really tired of the batfam just kidnapping people) it’s like an overwhelming group visit and apology, but reader calls them out and screams at them to leave.

For the next few weeks, they appear individually and mentions her interests and how talented she is and she throws out something like, “So, you guys do get my texts,” dripping with snark.

I think she would bring up how much of a real dad Alfred was, this it especially hurts Bruce because Alfred practically raised Bruce.

I think this leaks to the public because of one explosive encounter in a public area or at one of her performances theatre or concerts.

It's not a problem! And I definitely feel you on the whole kidnapping thing- I think a lot of yanderes just jump to it too fast to be honest, but that could just be me. Not that I don't enjoy a good kidnapping every once in a while from a yandere! I do! But I think it can also make people forget that there are other ways for a yandere to 'capture' someone.

One of the ways I like to mess with the most, is the kind of yandere that is so manipulative and sneaky with their stuff that they don't even have to kidnap their darling. Because they're not only that confident that their darling will never run away, but maybe because they know that they're darling outright can't. Which can be taken literally or figuratively, and maybe both but I don't think I can pull that off- though it is still a neat idea, in my opinion!

Anyways!!! I think those are all very good ideas!

I especially like it where the reader is basically spiting in the Batfam's face. Though I will say that some part of that "reader mentions how Alfred was basically their dad" bit does get a tiny mention in the official part (to which I do apologize that it's taking so long- but we're getting there I promise 😭🙏) along side a few other things that'll serve as a real wake up call for the Batfam. And while I still don't want to say much, as I do want to keep expectations at a certain level, some members do get the feeling that the Reader hates them, while a certain someone is convinced that it's more than that, and the thought terrifies him.

A moment in public where shit goes south would be very interesting to see play out, honestly!! Especially after Part 3- so we'll see! Though I do think it would be fun to see how that plays out! :]

Overall, I do like these ideas!! And they are a pretty good way of shoving the reality of what happened down the Batfam's throat, besides Alfred who is spared for now <33

[izzyhandswhore]

Would love to see your hcs of reader taking Izzy out on a date at the beach! :3

((What a cute idea!! Poor man needs to relax a bit. Also is anyone going absolutely FERAL at that new clip?? Because sdbaekfasjfd)) Taking Izzy for a date at the beach!

So after arguing with Stede that pirates don't actually take vacations and time spent docked at a beach is time wasted, Izzy turns to you for backup.. Only to find you've already swapped your weapons for one of Stede's lace parasols. With a heavy sigh, he's defeated.

You take him by the hand and happily drag him away from the rest of the crew to have a private beach day away from the explosives testing, quite public make out sessions and makeshift, boisterous games (not naming any names). You even bring along some sandwiches Roach made, a bottle of rum and some other beachy supplies all carried in a little bucket (that's a secret mousketool we'll use later).

He still tries to argue that this is pointless and the two of you have seen a million beaches over the years, but you still point out how nice the sunshine is, how beautiful the sea looks and generally how peaceful it all is. He'd usually find relentless optimism annoying, but it's different with you. Eventually you get him to admit that the quiet is nice at least.

The two of you sit on the sand and look out at the horizon, hand in hand, letting him have his peace and quiet for a while. You toe your boots off and dig your feet in the sand, just enjoying the feeling. Izzy argues that him taking his shoes off would give him a disadvantage if an ambush or something was to occur but of course he can never really say no to you. If you pay close attention you can see him visibly relax as his feet sink into the sand. He squeezes your hand just that little bit tighter.

After some rest, food/drink and light conversation it's like Izzy is a completely different person in the best way. You didn't realise how much you missed his laugh and smile until now... He laughs at you even more when you take the bucket and start teaching him how to make sandcastles.

Okay hear me out. At first Izzy is laughing at you and insisting that this is completely childish and affectionately calling you mad.. And then you lose him to the sandcastle. The man is running back and forth to the sea to get water for better structure. He's digging moats. You hunt down seashells and driftwood and he makes little windows and defenses from them. He has such an intense look of concentration on his face but you can tell that he's so happy.. This is probably the first time he's allowed himself to "play" since he was a child, though of course you don't point this out to him or he'd probably stop.

By the time you're done you've built an entire sand fortress which is pretty impressive considering your lack of tools. You've both also got yourselves hot and sweaty, especially Izzy with his leather. So next stop is a quick dip in the sea. He may also need a bit of coaxing for this one, but it's a lot easier than it was at the start of the day. You take him by the hand again and the two of you step into the cold water, taking the piss out of each other for any gasps or hesitations, daring each other to go further and further..

Once he's up to about his knees he insists he's not going any further until you go beyond his reach and "lose your footing". Immediately he's by your side and pulling you up, seriously worried until he sees that you're laughing. You think he's going to be angry with you but instead he initiates what becomes a full-blown water fight. You're both splashing each other and hurling stupid affectionate insults and eventually it devolves into just wrestling each other into the water. He wins every time of course, but he never actually hurts you. Eventually you call a breathless truce and are left just holding each other in the water as the sun starts to set.

Izzy looks at you like you're his whole world then. He touches your face so gently and thanks you for the day, telling you he knows what he's like and how it's been worse since joining the Revenge and everything. He tells you he's not ungrateful for you and everything you do for him. He knows. You just smile and shut him up with a kiss that tastes like salt and rum. He only pulls away when the sea breeze finally makes you shiver and he realises he should get you home.

The two of you leave your sandcastle standing and return to the crew. You notice him sneaking glances at you in your wet clothing and the way it clings to your skin.. He stammers and gets all flustered if you or the crew point it out though. He takes you back aboard the ship to change clothes and get you all warmed up.. How you guys go about that is up to you <3

The night ends with a big bonfire on the beach with the whole crew. Frenchie starts a sing-along, rum is shared around and all in all it's just good vibes.

[funky-fox-fics]

Prompt: timer

"I want you guys to kill me," Skizz says, bowing his head like a sacrifice on a bloodstained altar.

Tango and Impulse are staring at him. He thinks about them both; Tango's undaunted cleverness is gone now, his hands only twitching for want of a sword to cling to, and Impulse is staring at him--opening his mouth, closing his mouth, opening it again like a fish drowning in the dry air.

Skizz's own Red rancor and rage have settled into a grim sort of determination, and he very carefully flicks his gaze down to the floor. It's marked by explosions, burns, scratches in the stone. Its back is pressed against the border, which crackles and hums like a roaring fire.

Somewhere, a cannonball announces another death, and the sound shatters the heavy air. For a moment all is silent, save for the 26 minutes ticking down on his watch with a heavy sort of finality.

Tango is holding his bow. He's looking at it like it's an alien invention, or maybe like it's going to explode in his hands. "We're not doing that," he says, slowly, as though it's obvious. "You're a part of TIES. We don't--we don't kill our bros, Skizz."

"I want you to kill me," Skizz repeats. "I don't want--I don't want my time going to anybody else. If it's going to be anyone, it's gotta be you guys."

"What is wrong with you," Tango says, and his voice is trembling.

"No, we're gonna get you some more time," Impulse says. "We'll get you some kills, you're gonna--you'll--"

"Impulse, if I could've killed someone else--I mean, I just died twice trying to get some more time, odds are kinda stacked against me." He laughs again. Impulse isn't smiling. "Really. I mean, if it's going to anyone, it's going to you."

"I can't," says Impulse quietly.

"TIES--you guys--Dippledop, this is my final order, buddy," Skizz says firmly. His neck is bared. "I want you guys to kill me. You guys need the time. I don't."

Everything is very quiet. The cannonball sounds again, sharp and bleak, shattering the silence as easily as a scream. This was how it was always going to turn out, wasn't it? Skizz was never going to win. He was always going to die in some way. At least he has some say in this death. At least he can give as good as he's got.

Tango has put away the bow, or at least switched it out for some steak. He is staring at Skizz. Skizz is not staring back.

"We have to wait for Etho to get here," Impulse says--hopefully, desperately. There's no going back. "All of TIES. And besides. He needs it more than any of us do."

For a moment they sit in silence, searching the SkyNet for any traces of Etho. Impulse is not looking. Impulse is still staring at Skizz.

"How much time have you got left?" Tango asks quietly.

The minutes tick down. Skizz knows it in his heart, but he still checks anyway. "23 minutes."

Tango makes a sort of keening sound in the back of his throat, and then he says, "So it really is over."

"TIES has to get to final three," Skizz reiterates, eyes fixed on the shape that might be Etho and might not be Etho in the distance. "Please, you guys. One of us has to--well, I mean, I hope one of us wins, but at least final three. There he is." He flicks his hand out to gesture to Etho, who's crouched behind a cobblestone pillar.

"I'll try to make it," Impulse says. He pauses for a moment. He opens his mouth. He closes his mouth.

They manage to get Etho's attention, and as soon as he's there, Skizz presses his bucket of pufferfish and then his diamond axe into his hands.

(He thinks about a Red King. He thinks about a diamond axe. He thinks about other Lives, and other lives, and he thinks about this--his final death. For Etho.)

"I want you to kill me with this," Skizz says, and he tries to bare his throat so that it doesn't hurt much, cleaving through the skin. "Get you some more time. My final order."

Etho smiles, a crease in the mask, a crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He takes the axe with no hesitation. Tango makes that same keening sound, eyes pulsing with red glow. Impulse is staring at him quietly. His hands might be shaking.

Etho raises the axe, and Skizz bares his back, turns around so he has a good swing. 21 minutes and 55 seconds. Cannonballs cleave the air, and the server is shaking, and the rest of them are shaking too. It's cold, here so high above the server. This is how it ends.

"I love you Skizz," he says, and his voice is full of laughter. Skizz likes that about him. He really does. "I just wish you were better at surviving."

The axe comes down, lightning splits the sky in two, and Skizz finally runs out of time.

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.” 

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a  desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning. 

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these. 

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. 

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad. 

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth. 

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?” 

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long. 

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?” 

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.” 

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up. 

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle. 

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would. 

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. 

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered. 

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin. 

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes. 

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening. 

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed. 

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled,  and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him. 

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known. 

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father. 

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself. 

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency. 

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill. 

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you. 

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that. 

You didn't scream, yell, or cry. 

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact. 

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings. 

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event. 

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!” 

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle. 

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-” 

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship. 

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment,  “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop. 

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.” 

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it. 

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet. 

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched. 

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving.  The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

[animentality]

Guys, as much as I love added Shidou content, they added this sort of odd scene, where Shidou attacks Rin early, in the Top Six briefing room.

And it's like... I'm not saying Shidou isn't prone to random acts of violence, but it's really odd to me that Shidou would just attack him here.

He was attacking people because they wouldn't play with him in Second Selection.

And he was bullying Igaguri because he had no one else to bully.

And then he was attacking Rin later because the guy CRASHED INTO HIM.

But him just saying oh do you love explosions? No? AXE KICK.

I'm not saying it's NOT in character, exactly, but it feels pointless to add, because they are going to fight later, but right now, does it really add anything to them as characters...?

Not really.

Maybe it's just to remind us that he likes kicking people, I don't know.

I liked the actual animation on it, though. Shidou's face was really nice and expressive.

And I will never object to more Shidou scenes. Just felt sort of odd, as an addition. Like, we're going to see them fight properly later. This seems like a weird place to insert conflict, when the manga had a way more logical reason for them to fight later. Also, we'll see his whole "life activity" thing way later, when it's more relevant.

But that being said, Yukimiya, Otoya, Karasu, and Nagi had the most in character reactions ever.

Nice Guy Yukimiya is like, should we stop them, Otoya is like whoooo, fight, Karasu was like I hope they take each other out.

Nagi is playing Fortnite on his phone.

Actually, you know what?

Anime is sort of goated for showing us the Top 6 interact in general.

The manga didn't really show us that too much, so. This scene was at least funny, if a little odd.

[moodyseal]

i hear you are 🤡clowning🤡 over Commodus coming to his senses so I have slid into your inbox to 🤡clown🤡 with you about it

What 🤡clown🤡 thoughts have you been harboring about this👀

for science.

🤡<-me and you

SOMEONE WILLING TO CLOWN WITH ME A BIT okay uhm. I was mostly having thoughts about the reasons for his behaviour, actually, and in the end I came to the conclusion that he's not entirely unredeemable, or at least he wasn't up until the fight at the Waystation in TDP, where he became a serious threat to the lives of the people who lived there (and actually got Heloise killed)

Like, if you ignore for a moment his past deeds and historical background (because if we accepted the atrocities as quirky parts of Apollo's personality we can do the same for him /j) and look at what he actually did for the first two thirds of the book, you'll notice that he wasn't as cruel as, say, Caligula or Nero. For example, he didn't kill all the prisoners he was holding captive, like Caligula would've done, even if Georgina (and maybe Hunter, since she's one of Artemis' hunters) was the only one that was actually useful in luring Apollo in, and at the end of the book he was still agreeing to let everyone go as long as Apollo and Meg went with him.

This shows that he is capable of some kind of restraint and not totally incapable to be reasoned with, which makes for some solid villain redemption arc material; the only problems, other than his small bloodlust problem that, again, we'll skip over for now and deal with some other day, are

a) the behavioural issues his relationship with his father led to (that could've been actually dealt with if only someone told him that therapists are an option today),

b) his ugly, horrid desire of revenge against Apollo,

and c) his narcissistic tendencies, which resulted in him not acknowledging the whole concept of. You know. Other people's feelings and how his actions might affect them.

They're all intrinsically tied together, and as a whole they're the main reason why, in the past as well as after his death and deification, Commodus was unwilling to accept any sort of help or suggestion coming from the people around him, and Apollo specifically. Before his death, he didn't acknowledge that there was a problem with his behaviour at all; to him, his actions were always right, and the people around him were vilifying him when he didn't deserve it, all while trying to suffocate his desires and needs. The lack of his father's support throughout his adolescence only intensified those feelings, and at the same time rendered him all the more vulnerable, making him latch strongly onto anyone he felt like would always support him—Apollo, in this case. Inevitably, the betrayal of the only person he trusted unconditionally (which was done for Rome and its citizens' own good, but was still a betrayal) had an explosive result, leading to Commodus' attitude worsening, him becoming effectively deaf to the guidance of anyone who didn't agree with him (when in the past there was a chance that maybe he would have listened to Apollo, at least, had he intervened sooner) and, finally, him making his life's goal destroying Apollo's life.

Despite the fact that any last bit of love Commodus had for him turned into blinding hatred, though, there were still some feelings in his heart that weren't rage. He didn't show them; on the contrary, he tried to hide them, and that's because they were a sign that there was still some vulnerability left in him—that he cared, to a degree. Had Commodus' revenge been the two dimensional kind, where he didn't give any sign of care about what happened two thousand years before and operated solely on the train of thought of "kill, maim, destroy" even when he barely thought about Apollo being the reason he died, I wouldn't have thought of there being a chance of him coming to his senses. But instead, with these feelings, Commodus demonstrated that he didn't forget, and that as much as he hid himself behind his glitter and his spectacles and his luxurious palaces, what Apollo did ultimately affected him. He still cared about what Apollo did in the past, and about what he was doing in the present too. In a way (and this is purely my personal perception, as everything I've written above is) it seemed that, consciously or subconsciously, he was even waiting for some sort of feedback, for a response that Apollo didn't give.

Why else would he insist so much? For what other purpose would he throw back his death in Apollo's face again and again, if not to get a reaction out of him?

I don't actually know how, exactly, it would be possible to fix all these issues, as well as their relationship. I have thought a lot about a scenario where Commodus realizes he's in the wrong, where Apollo manages to bring him to the good side just like he did with Lityerses, and this behaviour of his is exactly the reason why I never figured out how it would happen. How do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped? Apollo tried and failed, didn't he?

Maybe not enough.

It's true that Commodus was a selfish, arrogant man, as it is true that Apollo tried to help him, only giving up on his insistence when the man he loved went down a path of no return. It's also true that he didn't reprimand him for what he did once, trying to get to him through good humour and support, being too permissive when Commodus didn't need permissiveness, but some strength of character from someone he trusted. It's also true that Apollo never apologized.

I don't remember much about TDP and TTT, but didn't Apollo never mention once to Commodus the reasons for what he did? He cried about that day on his own, never with him, never showing Commodus that he has suffered for that murder just as much as he did.

Maybe the apology wouldn't have changed anything, maybe Commodus would've stayed the same ruthless man he's been for the whole series. But I like to think that it could've potentially stirred something inside him anyway.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

HIIII FINALLY BACK THINKING ABT. GRAYSCALE WIBBY.!!!!!!!!

actually i'm. more gonna b thinkign abt like canon wiwi in worm terms bc i hav.e. fucking. NO clue how grayscale arc will translate and i'm genuinely thinking i gotta revamp his entire powerset maybe but we'll see!! i'm SO so so so excited to get ur essay on it………

anyway. new haven wards at least a 7 or so!!!!!!!!! they could fucking kill people very very very easily!!!!! they are genuinely terrifying & they r teenagers!!! clingy sad teenagers who it would take several other capes and a ton of armed soldiers and maybe like a tank to bring down!!!! a big part of my reasoning for this & them being insanely fucking op is like… they're the heirs to the triumvirate-equivalent!!! they're out here being hand picked & groomed for the roles of shit like "level cities" and "throw yourself into leviathan" and "fight the slaughterhouse 9"-- they have to be. so scary and have so much on their shoulders & also be fucked up teenagers. to me. i feel incredibly normal about this btw. also i'm sure they all feel so normal about this i'm sure grayscale wiwi sees so much protocol being enacted because of him & feels normal about it!!! im sure people love having his powers used on him and think he's cool and great and not a sick twisted fuck!!! im sure everyone's reactions to him r awesome and have a good effect on his psyche!!!! (also i have. thoughts. on like. vigilante or rogue nhw. head in hands.)

anyway anyway anyway. BACK TO WIWI. I AM PUTTING HIM AT A 9 OR 10. THIS IS. MMM. DEFINITELY WEIGHTED WITH A CONSIDERATION TO THE PANIC AND COLLATERAL DAMAGE VARIABLE. it is genuinely fucking insane to me that william wisp can create perfect simulacra of people that are such close and perfect imitations people Can Not Tell Them Apart. and also that he can create and control MANY SIMULTANEOUSLY. WHILE BEING A DISTANCE AWAY FROM THEM. and they can ATTACK YOU. even more fucking insane is that he can do it with the environment too & can create illusions that massive without anyone even noticing??………. like. just. think about it for a second. grayscale arc is literally already worm world but think about the fucking shit someone could do when they could create such visually perfect copies that no one can tell unless they touch them or he fucks up somehow. think about the shit he could do by faking an entire environment or explosions or anything else perfectly. literally going insane thinking about this & how well it's used in grayscale arc & fucking imagine if that's just. what he did every day!!! god. anyway everything u say about wibby causes me such immense pain i cannot stop fucking thinking about "what do u think he'd do if he saw civilians being evacuated because of him". head in hands. this is literally so incoherent btw sorry but like. wiwi................

GOD. DUDE. I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY IN REGARDS TO WIBBY BUT I CANT TELL YOU YET. GOD. i feel really normal about wibby and david. they have a normal and healthy sibling relationship (<< me when i lie)

i would suggest . not . totally overhauling your ideas for wibbys powers yet. maybe altering them a little but . keep them as is for now. smile. i have some ideas. im like. on the CUSP of learning more about cauldron and the artificial powers i think though so on the basis that i dont want to sound silly about my mutuals favorite piece of media i think i will hold off on that for juuuust a little longer. side note unrelated question. i know hatchet face's power was. like. cancelling out other capes powers. is there something in worm that like. temporarily or permanently removes someones powers. that would be so fucked up! but i am Thinking. how would we go about wibby power loss arc. WOULD we even need to do this. many thoughts head full.

um . hi. roswell my beautiful friend and mutual. "groomed for roles such as 'level cities' and 'throw yourself at leviathan' or 'fight the slaughterhouse 9'" do you want me to die? do you want me to die. also thats got me thinking- do you think part of the reason they chose dakota was his anger for the s9 and what they did to his parents. actually on that note would that be his trigger event???????? i dont remember if we've talked about trigger events for nhw yet. speaking of which i think wibby getting the smoke powers should be a secondary trigger event for him. i still think about that moment a lot and it hurts me so bad. mallard conway im going to kick your ass. would the smoke powers be classified as Master since theyre like... controlling minions or whatever?????? you are the worm master (<< awesome title i just came up with) id love ur thoughts on power mechanics.

im so fucking tempted to give u a little bit of the wibby david essay here but theres a specific scene in grey i need you to hear before i go full tilt into that. for now i will just say. remember the "i thought you were the first good thing to come out of deadwood. the first thing that wasnt sick and twisted" line? yeah. god. uhhhhh finding out the older sibling youve looked up to for basically your whole life is actually a horrible piece of shit person and would throw you to the wolves if it benefited him in some way. but instead he turns you into the wolf and sets you loose on people who you used to think were your friends and you dont even realize it until its too late (yes i used the wolf metaphor on purpose be so proud of me)

ANYWAY. UM. YEAH. greyscale wibby fucking. stalking through a building and all of davids hired guards see the shit hes doing and decide its better to abandon their orders and face davids wrath later than to stick around for this horrifying cape shit theyre not equipped to deal with in the slightest. wibby starts hearing radio calls of hired hands telling each other to get the fuck out of there and he realizes the reason they sound so scared is because of him. and yet. he has to keep going he HAS TO or else this will all be for nothing and hes already done so much damage he CANT let it be for nothing. but all these people are afraid of him now